


Anxiety (Egotober Day: 23)

by Mad_Madame_Mim



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Gen, I will forever love my snek boi, Self-Harm, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, You can pry Good Boi Deceit from my cold dead fingers, lying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 05:19:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18088190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mad_Madame_Mim/pseuds/Mad_Madame_Mim
Summary: (Written for Egotober 2018)Deceit is selfish. Deceit lies. Deceit wants what all the Sides want: What he thinks is best for Thomas.When Virgil has a panic attack, Deceit does what he does best. He lies.





	Anxiety (Egotober Day: 23)

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this in a day, way back in October, for Egotober, and figured I'd add it here, as well. It's supremely unpolished, sorry!
> 
> And I'm very sorry for not writing in ages. I've had a major family crisis occur, and haven't felt like doing much of anything. I'm hoping to start posting again, soon. <3

Shadow and storm crept, sullenly, overhead, bringing that deep, velvety blackness and chill that forced you to curl deeper into yourself, with only your thoughts, as cruel as they were, for company. Lightning remained leashed to the underbelly of the clouds, forked as the approaching serpent’s tongue. Rain wasn’t falling, yet, but the wind became so cold the bent over body tugged its purple hoodie up all the higher, those black shadows haunting the edges of his form.

A delighted, yellow, gleam lit slit eyes as the viper found another game to play. It teased at the edges of the gathering darkness, ready to strike, only to stop, going bolt still at the reflected gleam in the other man’s hand. Red marks marred the violet hue of the hoodie sleeve.

All desire to toy with the other Side left the lying beast’s body in an instant. For all Deceit’s cruelty, he still existed to protect Thomas above all. His was a selfish act, but a direct one. The serpent’s coils gleamed a sickly yellow under the haze of barely withheld lightning. Its head drew back, bright fangs and eyes revealed, and lunged.

 

Patton’s pale hand landed on Virgil’s shoulder, his other one reaching around to grip the wrist holding the razor with violent intensity. But his voice was soft, shushing. “Hey, hey. I know. I’m right here. You’re not alone!” His voice shook with a false cheer, as he pushed the wrist down. “Come on, just listen to ol’ Patton. You know it’ll be alright.”

“Not this time,” Virgil grated, unable to explain. Thunder rumbled overhead in response to his distress, but Patton didn’t stop. “It’s always been, before. So, it will be, now. Like Logan would say, it’s only logical.” A lie. There was no way to know if they’d make it through this. But they were the only ones who could be there for Thomas, and each other.

Virgil didn’t say anything more, so Patton babbled. “We have to make it through today, okay? That’s all. That’s not long. Look!” He pointed ahead at a clock forming on the ground, with kitty ear bells and a clapper in the shape of a curl. Adorable, just like Patton would use. Virgil tensed at the sight, but Patton quickly soothed, “Whoa, whoa. Hold your horses, partner! See, we’re not worried about the whole day -just bits of it! We need to finish work, today. That’s not five hours, it’s only four, because we’re gonna have our lunch hour. See?” The clock rolled along, faster, until there was less time to manage. “And then it’s not really four hours, so much as… as sections of thirty minutes. You can do thirty minutes, right? I know you can, buddy!”

Patton’s grip never moved from Virgil’s wrist or shoulder, wrapping him in body warmth and a kitty hoodie of his own to stave off the chill of the air. “We can time it to take a break every two thirty minute sections, okay? We’ll get a snack or a coffee. Something small.”

“That’s just an hour-“ Virgil began, purple light glowing along the clock and dragging the hour hand back. Quickly, Patton interjected, “Nope! Nonono. It’s just segments of thirty minutes. Come on, I’ll be right here, with you, and show you.”

Minutes trickled like molasses as they waited. But Patton babbled. Patton babbled about fun things, and silly things, and cute things. About Logan and his jam song, about Roman fighting a dragon witch the other day. Patton babbled. And, eventually, ever so slowly, Virgil’s grip on the blade relaxed, and released. There was no sound of it hitting the ground as a coiled shadow swept it back into the darkness.

After a bit, Patton let go of the wrist he’d been holding to point at the clock, again. “Well, see? Already got through three thirty-minute bits! We just need to do another one and we can get a candy bar from the machine. What’s your favourite type? Mine’s granola with raisins!”

This time the clock didn’t feel as slow, and they soon were both faced with chocolate bars as Thomas went back to finish the last two hours of his day. Patton was back to babbling, this time with a smear of chocolate on his cheek.

 

But as the last hour grew closer, a last-minute email pinged on Thomas’s computer, asking him to quickly send out a staff email before he left. Something sharp glinted behind Patton’s eyes as he nearly spat something at the screen, only to feel Virgil tensing beside him. “Hey, now. It’s just an email. We send tonnes of them, all day.”

“But this one has to be done, today," Virgil grimaced, paranoia lacing each word. "And we still have other reports to finish, in only an hour-“ this time the clock threatened to zoom forward, until Patton grabbed it, soothing the purple light along its surface. “One of those reports isn’t due until tomorrow evening. Got plenty of time for that! And the other one is small, just like this email. And, pfft, it’s just like sending an email to our friends, right? Just typey type type away!”

  
“But-“

“An hour is plenty of time. You’ll see. No worries. Your best bud Patton knows a thing or two about doing all this adulting. It’s called adultery, you know.”

For the first time, the ghost of a smile tilted Virgil’s lips. “No, it’s not, Patton.”

“Pretty sure it is. Anyway! Let’s see what we’re gonna tell our friends at work…”

 

Now Patton was holding both of Virgil’s shoulders, almost bouncing with excitement as the anxious Side curled the reddened arm into his lap, now gripping that chocolate bar from before. The marks sealed, but didn’t disappear. You could sooth an anxiety attack, but there would always be marks left behind. Reminders of your failu- suddenly Patton’s fingers curved around that wrist, as if he weren’t thinking about it, hiding the marks as he spoke, “And we’re almost done with the day, whew! Look how time flies.”

Sure enough, Thomas was finally standing, again. Rubbing the back of his neck, he grabbed a jacket and his bag, before leaving work to get in his car. Almost the instant he turned the radio on, he leaned back, rubbing his face and sighing in relief. “See? That wasn’t hard, at all. Now we can go home and watch the Office.”

“We do have laundry to do, Patton.”

“Meh. No one will notice if we wear this shirt one more day! How long have I worn this cat hoodie, after all?” Virgil only chuckled. Overhead, the storm began to ease, bringing back warmer winds.

Finally, Thomas was home, doing laundry like he should be, and Patton was sneakily tucking down the sleeve of Virgil’s hoodie. Only once the clouds had finally gone did he stand up, along with the other Side. “Well, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, we can binge watch the Office!” He turned on his heel, a whirl of pastel cheer, only to go rigid when Virgil called after him, “Thanks, Deceit.”

“…Buddy, I don’t know-“ he began, voice cracking, slightly. The smear of chocolate on his cheek flexed like a snake’s lipless mouth. Virgil only raised an eyebrow at him.

Shadows reaching out to him, “Patton” turned back to fully face him, shedding the form of the emotional and caring Side as he did. Yellow gloved hands steepled in front of a grinning face. “You didn’t catch me,” he lied, in greeting.

Virgil just shook his head, “I wish you were like that, more often.”

“Oh, I am!” Deceit said, with a grin.

“…Thanks, for the help.”

“You’re not welcome.”


End file.
